World Witout Wizards: Guard

I liked being a Black guard. Passers-by looked at me with respect. I was paid more than others. I chose the task at the cost of thirty copper coins. It was enough to live for a week. An onion or a potato cost exactly one copper coin. If I cooked these vegetables on the fire, I'd be full all day. All I had to do was to deliver the tied prisoner from one village to another. Four hours of work for thirty copper coins? Great!

I sheathed the sword, put on my shoes and went to Chief Hall. The starting point was there. The map was a very handy thing. Everything was marked. The familiar places were well-drawn: the village of half-bloods, the river and the forest nearby. Surprisingly, even useful plants and minerals that I'd found on my earlier walks were noted there.

"Why did you come?" Oulsast hissed with disp.l.e.a.s.u.r.e. The next second his face became even more disgusted than usual. It seemed to me that he could not look worse.

"You shouldn't be rude with him, chief," a guard in full plate armor said, "You know, he's now the servant of the HAND and is not your subordinate."

"Shut up," the warlock growled, "Take the girl. He will escort her alone."

Intelligence Check

Base 0

Bonus -1

Dice Roll 3

Requirement

Success

"As far as I know, two escorts are required." I remembered the details of the MESSAGE, "She isn't a common criminal, but an aspiring warlock!"

"Let the lords of chaos suck your soul," the chief muttered unclearly.

"Okay, Tren'ya, go with him. But don't risk your life for nothing."

"As you command, sir," the guard nodded. I was shorter than him, though I was as tall as an elf could be. Besides, he was obviously much stronger.

"Come on, buddy, let's get your mistress out of the dungeon."

"She's not my mistress. It all happened by chance."

"You'll explain that at the trial."

I shuddered.

The senior guard, noticing this, laughed. "Hah! The Magic doesn't convict you. You'll only be a witness."

"Yeah." I nodded hesitantly, with a lump in my throat, and followed him. I wonder why they're painting their armor.

"Tell me, why do you paint your armor black: in order to be seen in the battle or to be invisible at night, sir?"

"You're too polite. Never call me 'sir'."

"Okay."

"I like that you're smart. In our profession it is necessary to be astute, otherwise, you'll end up headless in the bushes. As for the color, it's just a uniform."

"Why?"

"Do I look like a know-it-all? It might be some tradition or custom."

"Well," I decided to stop asking questions and not to anger the person who will soon become my travel companion.

Passing through a side corridor, we found ourselves in a narrow passage going down. The wooden boards had been replaced with stones, and the iron-bound shoes threw sparks when we walked briskly. The lower we went, the more clearly I felt the dampness and cold. Then the disgustingly sweet smell of rot penetrated my nostrils and mouth, along with the stench of vomit and human waste.

I didn't know that there were dungeons in our village. Finally, we descended into a long hall with prison cells with bars on both sides. A single torch lit the doors in the darkness. Three, five, ten cells! A whole gang could be imprisoned there. Most of the cells were empty, but there were skeletons in a couple of them.

Perception Check

Base 0

Bonus -1

Dice Roll 2

Requirement 2

Failure

I didn't notice anything unusual, no matter how hard I peered into the darkness. Finally, we reached the last cell. I almost vomited at the sight. I'd known she would be punished, but not like this…

"How are you doing, buddy?" the guard patted me sympathetically on the back.

"Don't worry, you won't be punished this way. Serve the HAND properly, and nothing will happen to you."

How could he say it so easily at the sight of the girl tortured almost to death?

She had cuts all over her arms and legs. She had huge swollen bruises. There was dried blood on her chin and legs. Her eyes were shut swollen. It's a miracle she was even alive with these injuries. Even though she had intended to kill me, I felt sorry for her.

"Why was she tortured so badly?" I couldn't help asking.

"That seems about right. She's a criminal! She was lucky they didn't kill her on the spot. Wait, I think you still don't know how to use your eyesight."

"Why, I have perfect eyesight from birth."

"You don't understand me. Look at her again." Tren'ya concentrated and looked at Lyska. I did, and I was surprised to see the MESSAGE next to her head.

Defector Lysandra

18 years old

Slave

The owner--Oulsast Dark

Accused of an attempt on the life and property of the chief of the half-blood village

Debt: 250 silver coins

Task: to deliver her to the court